The Silence Only Eats Us from the Inside Up
by tiltingaxis
Summary: She knows his relationship with his mother has been strained, to say the least, after that big revelation about his father. He's been spending more and more time at her house, and less at his, but he's never not went home before. Post Yes/No, One-shot


**__A/N: Apparently the angst in the last episode was too much for me not to write this. To the anon on Tumblr, thanks to your messages for inspiring this I guess =)**

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><p><em>Hold on, hold on, let me get the words out before I burst<br>There's no truth at all, poking at the giant eyes of ancient gods  
>Cool hats have failed, now it's time for me to have my turn<br>Kiss me, kiss me, life is far too short to scream and shout_

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><p><em>She stares, enraptured as Finn sends her a sly wink while he tap dances fluidly on the stage. She's dreaming. She knows she's dreaming, because for one thing, there is no way in any real universe that Finn Hudson could move that gracefully when dancing. For another, she's a <em>_**very**__ self-actualized person, and her psychic tendencies just automatically make it known to her whenever she's dreaming. Also, there's Barbra giving her man a standing ovation._

"_Never let that fabulous boy go honey," Barbra gushes to her as Finn makes his big finish._

"_I have no intention to Barbra," she gushes back, clapping with all of her heart as Finn jumps off the stage and makes his way towards her. He opens his mouth to speak, and- that's funny. Defying Gravity starts to play. She blinks. He opens his mouth, and there goes that song again._

_Oh._

Her eyes fly open in the darkness, the only light emanating from the phone just an inch away from her hand. She collects her bearings for a few seconds before she reaches for it.

"Hello?" she answers, her voice groggy. She frowns, because it may be two in the morning, but Rachel Berry should never sound anything but well-prepared to the rest of the world. "Hello," she tries again.

Much better.

"Rachel?" The voice startles her just a little and she pulls back her phone, checking to see if she's hearing right. She sits up in bed.

"Mrs Hummel?" she asks, a little cautiously.

"Yes. I'm sorry for calling so late. But," There is a hesitant pause as Rachel listens to Finn's mom's intake of breath. "Is- is Finn with you?"

She frowns, pushing the covers away as she turns, her feet dangling off the bed as she blindly searches for her slippers in the dark.

"No," she answers slowly. "I haven't seen Finn since this evening, when he came over for dinner."

She remembers him being distracted all evening. So much so that daddy had to call his name twice to pass the mashed potatoes. It had been game night, and he had opted out of Charades claiming that he didn't feel well, and spent the rest of the night absent-mindedly playing with the strands of her hair until she forced him to go home and get some rest. He hadn't wanted to leave.

"Mrs Hummel is everything okay?"

Carole Hummel doesn't say a word and Rachel feels her heart starting to palpitate as she turns on the light in her room. She knows his relationship with his mother has been... _strained_, to say the least, after that big revelation about his father. He's been spending more and more time at her house, and less at his, but he's never not went home before.

What happened?

"Everything's fine dear," Mrs Hummel assures her, but Rachel isn't convinced. She didn't spend the last ten years of her life taking acting lessons without learning the art of detecting a poor performance. But this woman (quite literally) would be her mother-in-law one day, and Rachel knows better than to call her on it.

"Finn isn't home?" she asks instead, worried. What in the world is he doing right now? It's almost two thirty in the morning, and there's really only one person she'd expect him to be with at this hour. "Have you tried calling Noah?"

"I have," Carole answers, her tone distressed. "He tells me he hasn't seen Finn since school, and I must have woken him up, the poor dear. Just like I probably woke you up. I'm sorry for bothering you Rachel-"

"Of course not. You weren't a bother at all."

"I'm sure he's fine. In fact maybe I should just check the basement. Sometimes he falls asleep watching Braveheart."

"Mrs Hummel if-"

"I'm sure he's fine Rachel. I'm just overreacting."

She hesitates. She wants to tell his mom to call her once she's sure he's safe, but she gets the feeling his mom won't be able to promise that, at least not tonight.

"Okay."

Xxx

She calls his phone incessantly along with Noah's, because if he won't respond to his mother, surely he will respond to her. It's almost three and after twenty one tries, she gives up and flops on her bed, frustrated. Blowing her hair out of her face, she sits up in determination as she scrolls furiously through her contacts.

"Hello?"

"What did you do to him Puckerman?" she demands.

"Berry?" Pucks mumbles. "Is that you?"

Remember when she said she could detect a poor performance? Yeah, her radar is _flawless_.

"Nice try Noah. I know Finn's with you. What in the world are you two doing right now?"

"We're not doing anything," Puck says in a normal voice.

"Let me talk to him," she demands.

"Uh- Berry I don't think-"

"Put him on the phone Noah."

"I can't."

"What do you mean you _can't_?" she spits out furiously, her ire getting the best of her. What is he trying to do, worry her to death? She swears, when she gets her hands on him, she will make him regret ever worrying her in the first place. After making sure that he's in one piece, and feeling better, of course.

"I mean, dude can't exactly talk right now," Puck answers, amusement lacing his words. She widens her eyes, feeling the ire redirecting itself towards his bestfriend instead.

"What did you do to him Noah?" she asks again, her voice dangerously low.

"I didn't _do_ anything, except be a good friend. He needed his wingman and I stepped up."

"And which part in any of this involves him being unable to talk?"

"Erm- the part where he's drunk off his ass."

"Noah Mordecai Puckerman!" she yells in a loud whisper, stomping her foot.

"_The hell Rachel_! We never mention my middle name in public!"

"You got him _drunk_?"

"He got himself drunk. I just made sure he didn't do anything stupid. Fine, _stupider_," he concedes at her silence.

"Give him the phone."

She rolls her eyes impatiently at the shuffling noise, hearing a loud groan in the background before Finn's voice finally fills her ear.

"_Wha-ha_?"

"Finn Hudson! You had me so worried!"

"Ray-_Rayray_?"

"Yes! It's Rachel. You know, your girlfriend? Who loves you very much and would very much appreciate it if you don't exhaust your liver by the time you're twenty one because-"

"Yeah, you lost him," Puck says, stopping her rant. "He's puking right now."

She wrinkles her nose in distaste, holding the phone closer to her ear.

"Where are you taking him?"

"What do you mean where? We're staying at the back of this truck until he shakes it off."

"You can't just leave him there! You need to take care of him!"

"Berry," Puck starts dryly. "I don't think you know how dudes work."

"I don't care! Can't you see that he needs help right now? Do you even know what's wrong with him?"

"Sure I do. Something about ending up like his dad."

God help her.

_His father died from a drug overdose!_, was what she wanted to yell. _Everything he has ever known about the foundations of his life has been a lie, and you tell me it's something about ending up like his __**dad**__?_

Instead, she takes a deep breath.

"Bring him to me," she says. There's an uncertain pause from Puck, during which she winces as she hears Finn retching in the background.

"I dunno. Dude's like, _really_ wasted. I don't want the Berrys to like circumcise him when they find the guy in your bed or anything."

"Don't be ridiculous Noah. My fathers are known to go into very deep stages of the REM cycle, and I won't let anything happen to him. You, on the other hand-"

"_Hey_!"

She sighs impatiently.

"Just bring him here. I'm giving you ten minutes."

Xxx

She runs out of her door when she sees the headlights, tightening her coat in the chilly air. She frowns when she sees Puck alone in Finn's truck, but he gestures towards the bed of it when he sees her. Pulling up in front of her house, she stands on her tiptoes to find him sprawled on the floor, his face hidden from view. Puck jumps out, swiftly jumping back into the backseat as he wraps Finn's arm around his shoulders.

"Dude," he grunts. "Get up."

She unlocks the bed for them, looking up and feeling her heart break into pieces at the state he is in.

"Oh Finn," she whispers, shuffling back as Puck attempts to bring him down. He mumbles something incoherent, trying heedlessly to push Puck away. He smells horrible. She always hates it when he gets drunk, and has; on more than one occasion given him a very well rehearsed speech on the dangers of teenage drinking. But she has never seen him look this _bad_ before.

"Finn," she calls out in a clearer voice, reaching out to touch his arm. He blinks for a few seconds, his eyes bloodshot and bleary as he looks out in front of him to see who's speaking. "Finn," she says again, her voice softer this time as she tugs on his jacket. He finally looks down, wincing as he does. His face breaks into a slightly nauseous smile when he finally sees her.

"_Rach_," he slurs, leaning forwards to give her a hug. But Puck has a good grip on him, and he barely moves as he frowns. "Lemme go Puck, Rayray is here."

Puck rolls his eyes, but she nods in his direction.

"Are you sure? The dude weighs a _tonne_. I can help you bring him in if you want."

"Thank you for the kind offer Noah," she says, smiling at him. "But I can handle him."

Puck shrugs as Finn continues drunkenly to try and push his friend away. Puck releases him, and he almost sprawls to the ground, but she's there to catch him, the wind taken out of her just a little when his large body slams into hers as she wraps her arms firmly around his waist.

"Hi baby," he mumbles against her neck, his arms tight around her. "You smell nice."

She smiles despite herself at the wonder in his voice.

"He threw up like, five times on the way over," Puck tells her. "So I think the worst is over."

She tries to pull back, but Finn mumbles something incoherent as he burrows his head further against her, his nose and lips by now completely pressed against her neck.

"Thanks Noah," she says, resigning to the fact that she can't see him properly.

"Whatever. If you don't need any help, I'm gonna bounce. I'll bring his truck back tomorrow, or in like a few hours."

"Okay," she mutters, attempting to push her boyfriend into an upright manner. "Come on Finn, I'm going to get you to bed okay?" she coaxes. He complies, letting her pull away as she lets one arm rest over her shoulder, her arms firmly around him.

"Hey," Puck says quietly as he reaches the door.

"Yeah?"

"He's- he's pretty messed up over whatever this is."

"I know."

"Just- just take care of him 'kay?"

She smiles warmly at the troubled expression he's trying to hide.

"You're a good friend Puckerman," she tells him, ignoring Finn as he turns to bury his face in her hair.

"Yeah. Later."

Xxx

"Rachel you're _sooo_ pretty. You're the prettiest girl ever!"

"_Ssh_! Finn! You have to be quiet okay? It's three thirty in the morning," she whispers in a panicked voice as they make their way up the steps. He can't seem to keep his voice down.

"Okay, okay _sssh_!" Finn continues in a stage whisper, holding his finger up to his lips, it reaches his nose instead. She giggles even though she knows she shouldn't, because she adores everything he does, even when he is so painfully inebriated. His grin is wide as he leans against her in the middle of the stairs.

"I love it when I make you laugh," he mumbles, pulling her closer into a hug.

"That's sweet Finn," she mumbles against his jacket. "But we're going to fall down the stairs and die if you don't allow me to get you to my bedroom."

"I love your bedroom," he declares, ignoring her. "It's so cute and Rachel-y, and like I can see you naked in your bedroom-"

"Finn!"

"And that's my favourite thing about your bedroom."

She groans, pulling him up another step with her. He's impossible.

"I love you Rachel," he mumbles as he follows her. She sighs, feeling herself melting against her will. He always has that effect on her.

"I love you too Finn."

Xxx

She dumps him on her bed with a grunt and he falls on his back, his hands and feet dangling off the side. She makes herself busy, tugging off his sneakers and wrinkling her nose when she gets to his socks. He's so lucky she loves him so much, because what other girlfriend will so willingly _touch_ those things, much less pull them off his feet? She's the best girlfriend ever. It's a good thing he knows that.

"Whoa. There are stars in here!"

"Yes Finn," she answers absentmindedly, as she tries to pull his jacket off him. "You put it up for me, remember? Over the summer."

"They're so pretty. But you're the prettiest star I've ever seen."

She wonders why he can't always be this romantic when he's sober. Then again, if he is this romantic, there'll be nothing left of her but a perpetual puddle of Rachel Berry goo on the floor.

"I don't even know what you're doing with me," he slurs. She frowns, looking up at him as she folds his jacket over her chair.

"Finn," she starts, going over to him. His eyes are closed, but they open when she comes closer, and he grins when he sees her, holding his hand out towards her.

"I feel icky," he slurs when she comes closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hip pressing into his torso.

"You're drunk," she tells him softly, running her hand through his hair.

"I am? Hey where're you going?" he whines when she tries to stand.

"I need to call your mom Finn. She's worried sick about you."

"I don't _wanna_," he whines again, frowning as he looks at her. "I don't wanna talk to my mom."

"You don't have to. I'm just going to tell her that you're safe."

"_Nooo_," he slurs, his fingers a death grip around her wrist. She sighs, shaking her head.

"Finn-"

"I hate her."

"_Finn_!" She stares at him with wide eyes, but he glares back stubbornly, his eyes unfocused. "You don't hate her," she tells him softly. "You're just saying that because you're angry."

"She's _mean_, Rachel. She lied."

She feels the tears springing out of the corner of her eyes before she realizes it and quickly wipes them away with her free hand.

"Oh Finny," she whispers. The hold he has on her loosens and she turns her wrist, locking their fingers together.

"Hey Rachel," he mumbles. "Did you know that Dessert Storm was in 1891?"

"Desert Storm," she corrects him automatically. "And you mean 1991."

"Yeah that's what I said. I know 'cause I looked it up on Wikipedia and everything. She told me that's how my daddy died."

"Finn-"

"'Cause she knew I was stupid."

"Finn Hudson! You are not stupid-"

"Everyone knows I'm stupid," he continues, ignoring her. "Stupid, _stupid_ Finn who's not good enough for anything but this _stupid_ place and Burt's _stupid_ garage-"

"Stop it!"

"Everybody lies to me because I'm so stupid I believe them-"

"No-"

"And nobody knows what you're doing with me."

She gasps dramatically, startled.

"Finn-"

"What are you doing with me Rachel?" he asks, his eyes open as he looks at her. Tears are streaming down her face by now, because she's so _angry_, and she's so _frustrated_, but not at him (maybe a _little_ at him), but at the whole world because it is so unfair. It's just not _fair_.

"I made you cry," he says, frowning as he moves his hand up her arm, resting it on the curve of her neck. She shakes her head, leaning forward as she throws herself at him, wrapping herself so tightly around him, she wonders if he can breathe.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, one hand soothingly rubbing her back, and she would have laugh if she isn't crying so hard. She's supposed to be taking care of him, making _him_ feel better.

"No I'm sorry," she says quietly, pulling her head up to look at him. "I love you so much Finny."

"I don't know why," he tells her in a matter-of-fact tone. "I know you don't wanna marry me."

"Finn-" she starts indignantly, scrambling to get up but he holds her in place.

"I'm sorry I gave you that ring."

_Yeah_. That ring. The one that's stashed away in her underwear drawer, the one she keeps looking at every ten minutes and keeps sliding through her finger, imagining him doing it, a thousand different times since he placed the box in her hand. That ring that's beautiful, and perfect, and his, and hers too, if only she says yes (and _God_, she wants to say yes). He's apologizing for that ring?

"You take that back," she whispers angrily, sitting up and hitting him hard on the chest.

"Ow!"

"You take that back Finn Hudson!"

"Ow, ow you're hurting me!" he whines, trying to get away from her hand, but the bed is small and where does he think he can hide? "I take it back!"

She stops, her chest heaving as she glares at him.

"I don't care how drunk you are," she tells him furiously as he looks at her, wide-eyed. "Don't ever tell me you're sorry about proposing again."

She knows he's probably not even listening, and won't even remember it tomorrow if he is, but she's giving him an earful anyway.

"It was beautiful and wonderful, and you were perfect, and don't you ever tell me you're sorry about it."

"'Cause you wanna marry me?" he asks dumbly.

"I always want to marry you," she tells him seriously.

"Right now?"

She hesitates at that.

"I- I don't know _when_ yet."

"Oh. Cool."

She shakes her head, chuckling at the sudden turn of events as he closes his eyes.

"You're impossible," she murmurs.

"Don't call mom," he mumbles, pulling her towards him. She sighs, moving her body so that it rests on top of his, ignoring the fact that he's still in the shirt he wore all day or that his jeans are getting both her sheets and her pajamas dirty. It's almost four in the morning, and she wonders if his mom is still awake. Of course she is.

"Okay," she whispers. Her head rests on his chest, and she listens to the gentle beats of his heart as she stares at the empty space on her finger. It's been exactly thirty six hours since he gave it to her, and she's still wondering if what she _wants_ to say and what she _should_ say is the same thing. She shakes her head, drumming her fingers against his chest in time with his heartbeats.

"You don't think I'm stupid," she hears him mutter. She looks up to find him looking down at her, a small smile on his face. "Right, Rachel?"

She shakes her head, inching further up his body until they're face to face, leaning her forehead against his while her hands press against his cheeks.

"I think you're the sweetest, gentlest, smartest, most _perfect_ boy in the world," she whispers earnestly against his lips. "And I'm the luckiest girl in the world, because you chose to love me."

The smile he gives her is a dazed one as he nudges his nose against hers.

"Like you chose to love me?" he whispers back. She nods, smiling when his knuckle wipes her tears away.

"Exactly like that."

Xxx

He groans, and she turns away from her homework to find him sitting up, grabbing his head as he winces.

"Good morning sleepyhead," she calls from where she is. "Or should I say good afternoon?"

He looks towards her in confusion.

"Rachel? What happened?"

"Puck happened," she answers wryly. "You got yourself drunk," she continues, standing up and walking towards him. Despite the migraine he is surely experiencing, he pulls her down onto his lap when she reaches him. She smiles, rolling her eyes when he wraps his arms around her waist, moaning as he rests his head against her neck. She reaches forwards for the glass of water on the nightstand.

"Drink this," she orders, turning in his lap to put the glass up to his lips. He obeys, gulping down half the water before he pulls away in a grimace.

"Where are you going?" he mumbles as she starts to stand.

"Getting you something to eat," she tells him, forcing him to let her go.

"_Ugh_," he groans, leaning back against her pillows. "I feel like sh- crap."

She grins, opening the door before she turns around.

"I'll be right back," she tells him. She bounds down the stairs and makes him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, because she knows he prefers organic jams to multigrain, and pours him a glass of milk before making her way back up.

"Here," she says, closing the door with her hip. "Eat."

"Thanks baby," he answers gratefully, grabbing the sandwich on the plate as he wolfs down half of it in ten seconds. She rolls her eyes as she sits beside him on the bed, not bothering to tell him to slow down because he never listens.

"I called your mom," she tells him slowly, noting the way his shoulders tense just a little.

"Oh?"

"She knows you're with me. I told her I'll have you home by dinner."

He makes a face at that.

"Can I have dinner here?" he asks. She looks at him in surprise. He never invites himself over for dinner. She knows it's not a problem, because her dads love feeding him, but she knows he's just doing this to avoid his mom. It's a good thing her parents are gone for the day.

"Actually, I'll be having dinner alone tonight. How about I have dinner at your house?" she offers. "I could stay for a little while, and we could watch a movie."

She knows he wants to say no, but she also knows that he's trying not to bother her with his problem. When is he ever going to realize that she knows him better than he knows himself?

"Okay," he finally says. She beams at him, leaning forward to kiss his crumb-encrusted lips.

"Great."

"What are we gonna do for the rest of the day?" he asks when she pulls away.

"I'm going to take care of you," she tells him proudly. He looks blankly at her.

"But I'm not sick," he tells her slowly. "You're usually uber pissed when I'm hungover.

"I know," she answers, shrugging. "But can't a girl just pamper the guy she loves?"

He grins at her, nodding his head.

"_Totally_. What's the occasion though?" he asks suspiciously. Sometimes he's too intuitive for his own good.

"Nothing," she tells him. "I just really love you."

He smiles at that, putting the empty plate down on the nightstand as he pulls her closer.

"I should get drunk more often," he teases.

"Don't push your luck," she murmurs, leaning forwards to kiss him. She jumps off the bed when they pull away, clapping her hands together briskly. "Alright, first things first. You are going to jump into that shower, and no Finn. I will not join you. The last time we did that, we almost got caught, and I still want live to be on the Broadway stage, thank you very much. You are going to take a shower because you stink. I have your shirt in my drawer, I'll lay it out for you. And then we're taking a walk down the block so you can get some fresh air. _Ooh,_ and I find classic musicals are just the thing to nurse oneself back to health-"

He groans as she continues, but his eyes are twinkling and he tries to hide his smile. She grins as she keeps talking away.

She'll do anything to make him feel better, at least for a little while.

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><p><em>Gliding like a satellite in the broken night<em>  
><em>And when I wake you're there I'm saved<em>  
><em>Your love is life piled tight and high set against the sky<em>  
><em>That seems to balance on its own<em>

_Send your lifeboats out for me,  
>Send your lifeboat out<em>

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><p><strong>AN: Lyrics to Lifeboats by Snow Patrol**


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